Rain

Didn't it fucking rain over the weekend? Down it came. If Jesus had floated by nailed to a cross on the wrecked bow of the ark, I, well, me and all the Jesus Freaks wouldn't have been surprised.

As me old granny used to say, “Always live on the top of a hill.”

I told my young nephew that, "God's wife is taking a squat."

"Mary! Is that Mary?" he asked.

"No, she was just a receptacle for god's spoof on earth." Some preposterous story about a 13 year old denying who she was knocked up by?

"Whose god's wife then," Mitchell asked?

It all seemed so ridiculous and all too hard by that stage, as his innocent eyes gazed up at me. "Who indeed?"

"Don't fill his head full of that nonsense," said Mitcell's mum.

“So, who is god’s wife?”

“God’s wife?” asked Mitchell’s mum. “Asherah.”

“Who?”

“Asherah.”

“You are just making it up now?”

Mitchell's mum laughed out loud. "It is all made up, but the stories are interesting." 

"Interesting from a historical point of view."

"What people believed in in history," said Mitchell's mum. "Before they understood that none of it is true."

"What they believed in," I said. "Until they didn't."

"Most people don't believe it today."

"But they still go to church," said Mitchell. "And they still read from the bible."

"Maybe, a vocal minority," said Mitchell's mum. "I think you will find is the truth."

“A vocal minority?” questioned Mitchell.

“Usually, the people who don’t know much but have a lot to say about it,” said Mitchell’s mum.

“It’s just the ones who can’t let go of what their parent’s believe in,” I said.

“Childhood is an impressionable age, and those who still persist with this nonsense are free to infect their kid’s minds with the same stuff and nonsense,” said Mitchell’s mum.

“Empty vessels,” I said.

“Clang, clang, clang,” said Mitchell’s mum.

“So, god didn’t have a wife?” asked Mitchell.

“God doesn’t exist,” said Mitchell’s mum and I at the same time.

“It’s a construct,” said Mitchell’s mum.

“That got out of hand,” I said.

Mitchell’s mum and I laughed.

“Free to infect imprisonable minds,” said Mitchell’s mum. She looked from me to Mitchell.

“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it,” I said. I looked from her to Mitchell. We looked at each other.

Mitchell’s mum and I laughed again.

“So, who made the rain?” asked Mitchell.

“I think that is a question you should ask in your science class,” said Mitchell’s mum.

“Not your religious education class,” I said.

“You want an honest answer, after all” said Mitchell’s mum. “Not the fairy tale version.

“Do you have religious education classes?” I asked.

“No,” said Mitchell. “Just a bit in history, I guess.”

“Relegate religion to history,” said Mitchell’s mum. 

“They are finally getting education right,” I said.

Mitchell’s mum and I laughed again.

“So, religion is a bad thing?” asked Mitchell.

“Oh honey,” said Mitchell’s mum. She looked at me. “Is religion a bad thing?”

“Religion itself is really just a bunch of stories made up by people a few thousand years ago to explain the things in the world happening around them that they didn’t understand, at the time” I said.

“And now we’re far more educated and we now know the scientific reasons natural phenomena happen,” said Mitchell’s mum.

“And now we don’t need religion to run our lives,” I said.

“You know how nana says wireless rather than radio.”

“Yes,” said Mitchell.

“Well, it is the same kind of thing.”

“It is just leftover from an era which really doesn’t exist anymore.”

“It just takes people time to change in their way of thinking.”

“So, religion isn’t a bad thing?” asked Mitchell.

“Oh darling.” Mitchell’s mum looked at me. We both laughed.

“It can be,” I said.

Mitchell’s mum looked at me and then looked at Mitchell. “It’s not something I want you to believe in, honey. There are so many more interesting things in the world with which to fill your mind.”

“Like what?” asked Mitchel.”

“The real world,” said Mitchel’s mum.

“How people live in the world,” I said.

“What culture means, and how it is important to people,” said Mitchel’s mum. “How the people of the world can live in harmony together.”

“And not be set against each other because of their differences, like religion tends to do.”

“That religion isn’t the most important thing in life,” said Mitchel’s mum. “There is art, and literature, and music.”

“But isn’t religion important to people?” asked Mitchel.

“Yes, it is,” said Michel’s mum. “It is important to some people.”

“But so is snow skiing, and showing dogs, and racing cars, and reading fiction,” I said. “Lots of things are important to lots of people.”

“Meditation, and yoga, and Buddhist chanting, and Thai Chi, are important to people,” said Mitchel’s mum.

“Lots of things are important to lots of people, it doesn’t mean one is more important than any of the other things.”

“I guess what is important is that you find things that are important to you.”

“Like religion?” asked Mitchel.

Mitchel's mum looked at me. I looked at her. I raised my eyebrows. She smiled nervously.

“Well?” said Mitchel’s mum.

“Um, ah,” was I think all I could manage. "We're not going to tell you…"

"No," said Mitchel's mum. "Not religion, that is not something that should be important to you."

"Really?" I said.

"Oh!" Mitchel's mum looked exasperated. "Be a deluded little Christian if you must, but don't expect to have any friends."

"Don't Christians have friends?" Mitchel asked.

"Yes," I said.

"No," said Mitchel's mum. "Not cool friends. Not with cool people. Just the cardigan wearing set."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"Oh, we're damn if we do, and we're damned if we don't, and Christians spend a lot of their time pushing their ideas on to other people because they think it is their divine right, so why shouldn't I? I ask you."

"Is that what you want to teach him?"

"It's what Christians do pushing their ideas on to other people, so why the fuck not."

"Mum!" exclaimed Mitchel.

"Oh yes, mummy said a bad word. Mummies say bad words."

"I've never heard you say bad words," said Mitchel.

"Well, you are nearly grown up, so welcome to the real word, where mummies say bad words and Christians are losers."

"Wow!" I said.

"Erh," said Mitchel's mum. She shrugged.

She got a wine glass out of the cupboard. She got a half drunk bottle of Chardonnay out of the fridge and she pour herself a glass of wine.